Leon' is 'Noel' Spelled Backwards
by Channel D
Summary: It's the first Christmas for Leon Vance as NCIS Director  2008 , and no decorations have gone up at HQ. Is he a Grinch? One-shot, written for the NFA Va-Va-Va-Vance Challenge.


'**Leon' is 'Noel' Spelled Backwards**

**by channeld**

_written for_: the NFA _Va-Va-Va Vance_ challenge. The challenge was to write a Vance-centric story.  
_rating_: K plus  
_genre_: drama  
_setting_: NCIS, December 2008. This follows shortly after the events in _Cloak_ and _Dagger_ (season 6).

* * *

_disclaimer_: I still own nothing of NCIS.

* * *

_Elephant Month_ shouldn't be part of the space between Thanksgiving and Christmas, but nonetheless, there it was.

You know Elephant Month. It's the time when there's an elephant in your living room, or (in this case) in the middle of your office building, and the beast interrupts your life…but neither you nor anyone around you can bring yourselves to talk about it.

Usually, when an agent died, there was a memorial set up in NCIS HQ. A nice, framed portrait, draped in black; a brief, moving text piece about the agent's life and death. A pair of electric candles (regulations forbidding real flames). A discrete, mostly-out-of-site box of tissues for people who suddenly needed one. That was how it usually went.

This was not the case now. This agent hadn't died with honor, or even merely being on the job. Michelle Lee died a mole, a traitor. Maybe her intentions had some good; maybe she had lied all along. She was dead now, and no one would ever know what her real reasons were. There was no memorial to her; she would appear to have just stopped showing up to work, and the few who knew what had happened to her did not talk about it.

She died in gunfire shortly after Thanksgiving, and Christmas was still about four weeks away.

The elephant's name was Michelle.

* * *

_Dateline: Washington, December 1, 2008_

"Jenny loved Christmas. Cynthia told me that she had a standing order from her to haul the decorations and the tree out of storage no later than the day after Thanksgiving," Tony remarked.

Ziva and Tim followed his gaze to the untrimmed, unadorned area where the old, beat-up squad room Christmas tree—NCIS' one and only, much-loved tree—had stood, every Christmas, as far back as anyone could remember. Perhaps it had at one time been fresh (the battered old cardboard box that had been retained for it still claimed that it had a pleasant, artificial piney scent); now its branches were a little crooked from being bent into place too many times; the individual needles also dinged and scratched. Still, the addition of a few hundred fairy lights, heaps of glass balls, and a mile or so (seemingly) of garland did the old green lady proud.

But Jenny was gone, and the decorations remained out of sight. Had the new Director thrown them out? Was he anti-Christmas? Or at least, anti-Christmas cheer? No one knew, and no one had the courage to ask.

Director Vance had done little to win affection from his employees in the seven short months since taking over. Granted, that was the way some agency heads operated. It might be true of him. No one knew. Even Gibbs, who had known Vance for some length of time, couldn't say.

"Well, our team is back together. That's a good Christmas present," Tim said, trying to put some cheer in his voice.

"I will accept that as a Hanukkah present," Ziva smiled.

Tony's look wasn't as accepting, but then, he wasn't a group-hug type person. "I want the decorations," he growled.

* * *

_Dateline: December 4, 2008_

In his office, Leon Vance looked out the window at the mild December day and sighed. It was starting out to be a warmer-than-normal winter in Washington…over 50 degrees every day this week. His kids were growing increasingly cranky, wanting snow. After years of living in San Diego, both had been excited about the prospect of snowmen and snowball fights. It had been the only thing that had interested them about the cross-country move. Lily was too young to remember ever having seen snow.

Now, in Jared's words, "It's just like being in San Diego, 'cept there's no palm trees and you need a heavier jacket."

This was not the Christmas-in-DC that he and his wife had planned for the children. Maybe the weather would turn colder as the month progressed, but even if it did, Vance's research had shown that white Christmases here were seldom. The Vance family would have to do with lots of decorations to get into the spirit.

_Speaking of which, why has no one made any attempt to decorate Headquarters?_ This was the first NCIS office he'd worked in that didn't have at least a wreath or two up by now.

He reasoned there was no point in throwing his weight around on this matter. He was aware about how sensitive many of the employees were (still) about the shakeups, Jenny Shepard's death, and—for those in on the details (which was probably everyone, by this point, knowing how grapevines worked)—Agent Michelle Lee's death. _Would they want a subdued Christmas this year?_

Perhaps it was best to let them take the lead on this. Vance felt he could afford to sit this one out, at least until he had more information.

* * *

_Dateline: December 10, 2008_

"I guess there's no Christmas at NCIS this year," Abby grumbled as she leaned against Tony's desk.

"What; you're not going to make the lab look like a dozen party supply stores exploded in there?" Tony mused. "Why not?"

She waved her hands, as if that would make him understand better. "I don't dare! What if the Director comes down? He doesn't seem to _like _Christmas."

"Careful, Abbs," Gibbs scolded. "That's how rumors get started."

"Well, come on, Gibbs! There's not a sign of Christmas in here. Not so much as a Christmas card!"

"How the Vance stole Christmas?" Tony said slyly, earning him a head slap from Gibbs.

"Boss…would it be alright if…"

"_No,_ McGee. Don't know where the key to that stockroom is; don't want to know." Gibbs shook a finger.

* * *

_Dateline: December 11, 2008 Thursday_

The lack of Christmas decorations made Vance glum. He wished now he had asked Cynthia about them before she had departed for a job with the Marines three months ago. They had not parted on good terms, though, and he doubted she'd be receptive to a cold call from him at this point. She had been very defensive of her former boss.

There seemed to be, in fact, no one whom Vance could ask. No one here had warmed up to him yet. _Partly my fault; Jackie says I come across as austere._ Gibbs knew him better than anyone else here, by far, and yet…or maybe because of that…Gibbs was the most distant to him. Vance had extended a flicker of warmth to Tim McGee, an agent whose skills Vance admired, but there had been no real reciprocation. Tim was too loyal to his own team, and, like the others, hurt by the breakup Vance had forced on them.

It would be a sad Christmas.

Jenny Shepard was dead. Dead after Vance had been brought in to replace her.

Michelle Lee was dead. Taken out by Gibbs of necessity to prevent a loss of secrets.

Vance himself might as well be dead, for all that people thought of him.

And then he thought of something that Jackie had pointed out to him, in their first Christmas together_. "Leon, you were made for Christmas. You've got Noel in your name; just rearranged!"_

He'd grunted. He'd honestly never noticed that. Had his mother planned it?

"_It's my name, but backwards."_

"_Oh, you! There's nothing backwards at all about your love of Christmas, Leon. Anyone who knows you can see that."_

Vance felt that maybe that was the problem. The people here in DC didn't know him (except for Gibbs). Given time, they would. Maybe.

He could let time roll on, and see what happened. That was the safe route. Meanwhile, work would get done, and that, after all, was why they all were here: to work.

Or…he could take the initiative.

For the first time in weeks, he smiled. He sat down at his computer and began searching online.

* * *

_Dateline: December 15, 2008_

Ziva's head turned, and then Tony's did the same, and lastly, Tim's. A pair of deliverymen, accompanied by Jake from the loading dock rolled up a couple of carts and unloaded a few dozen boxes; one quite large. "What's this?" asked Gibbs, getting up to meet them.

"This here's for the squad room, Agent Gibbs," said Jake.

"What _is _it?"

"Stuff like what's bound for the other floors."

"What _is_ it?"

Gibbs' people were already peering at labels, their eyes growing increasingly wide. "Ornaments: balls, glass, 144 count." "Christmas tree lights, indoors, multicolored, 300." "Wreaths, 2, Five boxes of those." "This monster box must be a tree!"

"All new stuff…" Tim sighed happily, like a kid. "But why?"

"Maybe we shouldn't ask," Tony said, tearing open a box and donning one of the Santa hats that was inside. "Maybe we should just start decorating." He beckoned to some of the other squad room workers, who were looking on with interest. "Come! Decorate! My role is to supervise."

Gibbs looked up and saw Vance looking down from the balcony, a slight smile on his face. "Maybe the Director never learned where the key to the Christmas decorations storeroom is."

-END-


End file.
